Bailey gasped. “Oh my God, that was your son!”
“Sì. He now runs the business with my other son. I have been retired a while. We were talking and he mentioned he gave a tour to three beautiful girls who had a family house in Positano. A home inherited by their mother. I would have never thought anything about it, but when I asked my son the names, he mentioned Priscilla.” A flicker of emotion crossed over his face. “It is a unique name, but I pushed it out of my mind. It is too much of a coincidence, no?”
“You knew my name,” Pris breathed out.
Rafe nodded. “I saw your mother when you were about four years old. She showed me a picture. But I never intended to come here. It was only yesterday I met a friend who mentioned the same three girls looking for a man by the name of R who once ran a boat-tour business, living in their mama’s house. I knew then. I decided to come.”
“Thank you,” Bailey whispered. “There’s so much we are hoping to learn. Things only you’d be able to tell us.”
“I don’t understand why you are here.” A frown creased his brow. “Your mother could answer all your questions. She made the decision not to meet with me months ago, and I respected it. So, why are you looking for me?”
A cold chill ran down Dev’s spine.
He didn’t know.
The knowledge hit her full force. Of course he didn’t. Mom had died before she could meet him on her birthday, so Rafael assumed she’d changed her mind.
Oh God.
She shared a horrified glance with her sisters, then lowered her voice to a gentle tone. “Rafael, our mom died back in February. She got pneumonia and was gone before any of us could even talk to her.” Tears stung her eyes like tiny bees. “She didn’t meet you because she couldn’t. Not because she didn’t want to.”
Dev would never forget the look on his face. Grief crumpled his features, and agony shone in those dark eyes. A painful sound emitted from his throat, and he covered his face with his hands, muttering a word over and over.
Dolcezza.
He’d loved her. The proof was evident in his reaction and his broken whisper. Whatever had happened, her mother had been deeply loved, and the knowledge soothed her soul rather than inciting betrayal. Bailey had been right. Life wasn’t a map of strict boundaries of black and white. It was a mess of gray areas that mushed together in no evident pattern. All Dev knew in this moment was that their love had been real and had made Mom who she was.
Bailey was the first to reach out. She closed the distance and put her arm around him as he cried. Pris was next, her hand tentatively laid on his arm. Dev took the time to go into the dining room and fish out the letters from Pris’s bag. She knelt in front of him and he lifted his head.
“These are your letters,” she said softly. “She kept them in a trunk in her bedroom. We’ve been trying to piece together her past, but this is all we had to go on. All I can say is you were a huge part of her life. She never forgot. She always loved you.”
He took the letters, smoothing out the pages, and dragged in a breath.
“I will tell you everything. But I think this will help.”
He opened his bag and slipped out a pile of papers tied with a frayed green ribbon. “I kept her letters also. All of them. They will show who your mother was. How special she was to me.”
Dev took them like the precious gift they were. Bailey was freely crying and the emotion in the air was electric.
Pris stood up slowly. “We need wine. Rafael, can I interest you in some wine?”
A smile touched his lips. “Sì. Lots of wine, grazie.”
chapter forty-four
Olivia
Fate stepped in one final time.
I wasn’t able to get to Positano for my birthday. The cold that had lingered turned to pneumonia and put me in the hospital. The illness sank so deep into my lungs, and exploited a weakness in my heart that couldn’t hold up under the infection.
I died without seeing my girls. I couldn’t tell them to be strong; to forgive one another; to follow their hearts without apology.
I couldn’t tell them about Rafe. I couldn’t get word to him about my illness and the real reason I’d never show up to meet him on May 25.
I never got to see his face one last time and let him know he’d always been the one.
Was this punishment for my mistakes? Proof we were never meant to be together in this lifetime? Or just the cruelty of life—random and sometimes unfair, ready to spring out and rip apart what you believed you controlled?
It didn’t matter any longer.
I thought about my precious girls; those beautiful summers in Positano; the booming laugh of my aunt Silvia. I saw my mother beckoning me with love and the births of Pris, Dev, and Bailey with Adam at my side.
Rafe’s face was the last image I saw before I closed my eyes.
And I smiled.
chapter forty-five
Bailey
The sun set and they missed their reservations.
The four of them sat together, sifting through letters their mother had written. Reading some aloud. Steeped in another time, when young love had changed her. Each letter Bailey read revealed another piece of her mother, until the entire puzzle finally clicked together.
Rafe shared the story of their first meeting, through the summers of college, and what happened afterward. Sometimes he’d pause, struggling to harness his emotions, and then slowly continue. He was generous with his stories, as if he realized they were greedy for everything.
It was the story from a romance saga.
Bailey thought about her father. Remarried with his own new life. Had he ever suspected Mom loved another? Or had he been so wrapped up in his own wants and needs, he hadn’t taken the time to figure it out, or care?
Bailey would never know. She’d never tell Dad about Rafe. There was no need to hurt him at this point, or have him question his entire marriage. That would only bring unnecessary pain.
“Did you show up on her birthday?” Bailey asked.
“Yes. I came here to the house. Waited in the garden for hours, until dark. The place was still shut down, and I knew she wasn’t coming.”
“I’m so sorry,” Pris said gently. “I can’t imagine how Mom felt knowing she couldn’t tell you why. It happened so fast. She complained of a cold, which went into her chest, and suddenly she was admitted with pneumonia. We had no chance to even get to the hospital to see her before she passed of complications.”
“I am sorry for all of you. To lose her without a last conversation must have been hard. But you know now how much she loved you.” He smiled. “You all look so much like her. Your mannerisms are similar.”